Page 87 of Vincenzo
Amalia raises a brow at her cousin. “I’m surprised you care so much about them.”
“I don’t,” he says with a loose shrug. “But if we can avoid an all-out bloodbath in Diego’s backyard, that’d probably be better.”
“Oookay…” Amalia draws out, crinkling her brow at him. “Just keep them out of my way. I don’t really care what we do with them, I just want Pedro.”
“Let’s do this then,” Armando says, turning on his heel.
Amalia is about to follow after him, but I grab her hand and she turns back, looking at me with widened eyes.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. I just want you to know I’m going to be there for you. No matter what. You need me, I’ll be there.”
She gives me a nod, a smile creeping on her face. “I know. Just make sure his three men are handled. I’ve got Pedro. I promise.”
Amalia goes to turn, but I stop her again, tightening my grip on her wrist as I pull her into me. Wrapping my arm around her, I lift her chin with my finger and gaze into her brown eyes that are glistening with the same adrenaline that’s coursing through my body.
“I love you, you know that, right?”
“I love you too,” she says, and I cover her lips with mine, giving her a kiss like it’s going to be our last one.
“Are you two lovebirds done now? We kind of have some business to take care of,” Armando says from behind Amalia.
“Yup, people to kill. What else is new?” I say, releasing Amalia and following her and her cousin through the foyer.
Armando leads us down an oakwood hallway and into the living room that boasts high ceilings, white furniture, and abstract paintings on the walls.
When he gets to the large glass door, he slides it open to reveal the fully furnished balcony. Taking his gun out of his waistband, he walks out onto the deck.
My gaze is immediately drawn to the four men sitting in the outside bar area. None of them are looking our way, making it almost too easy for the three of us to stroll up on them. Our guns are aimed at our targets.
Finally, we catch the attention of one of the young men. He glances over at me, eyes widening when he takes in my gun aimed directly at him, but before he can even blink, I pull the trigger, and he falls back into his seat with blood dripping from the hole in his forehead.
I know I ignored what Armando said, but why the fuck would I want to put ourselves in a position where wecouldget ourselves killed? I’m going to take them out as I see fit.
The other three whip their gazes to us. Before they’re able to draw their guns, Amalia and I each take one out, leaving Pedro on his own with his hands in the air.
“Well, so much for not making a mess,” Armando mumbles from behind me.
“¿Qué putas?”Pedro exclaims.What the fuck?
His bushy brows are lifted to his hairline, and his mustache flattens in a straight line as he takes us all in.
“Amalia,” he says, dragging his gaze over mine to meet Armando’s. “Armando… What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t look at him,” Amalia says, her voice slow and controlled, with her gun still aimed at him while she closes in on him. Armando lowers his weapon, but I continue to leave mine aimed directly at Pedro.Just in fucking case.
“This is about me, you, and what you did ten years ago.”
He lifts a brow. “And what is it you think I did ten years ago?”
“Don’t bullshit me,” she says as she walks around the couch Pedro was sitting on. She waves her gun at it. “Sit down.”
He slides his gaze to mine, then over to Armando, his jaw clenching, before reluctantly taking a seat.
“I just want to hear you say it,” Amalia says as she stands in front of Pedro like she’s his executioner and he’s being allowed his last word. “Or are you too much of a pussy to admit it?”
Pedro brings his arms up, resting them on the back of the couch, and crosses his legs, looking far too relaxed for a man who has a gun pointed at him.
